


daemon thing

by majesticbeast



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: just for the bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:54:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4949152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticbeast/pseuds/majesticbeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is def all for tierney, i dont think anyone else even follows me, and this shit contain major spoilers for a story we want to eventually write out as a comic. god. this isn't even all of osman's portion. this is so short, it's legit a just a small small taste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	daemon thing

Her name was Naga. When Osman was small, the adults would cock their heads. It meant “snake” and that’s was his daemon was; he preferred simple names and simple things. His father had just laughed and smiled, “of course, now she’s going to settle as anything _but_.”

            Osman didn’t mind, he knew they were wrong. Throughout his childhood and adolescence, Naga would shift and change just as daemons did. Sometimes she was little garter snake wrapped around his wrist, sometimes a huge, heavy reticulated python weighing him in his seat, protecting him from everything. But always, always she was serpentine, coiling and uncoiling around him, hissing softly in his ear so that no one else ever heard her voice.

            Osman showed emotions and thoughts through eyebrow cocks and almost imperceptible mouth twitches. While he kept a blank and neutral face, Naga would coil, hunch back, and hiss her every displeasure and whim. If anyone understood snakes they would have seen whatever emotion or thought Osman had, but no one ever bothered to understand snakes. He did not mind.

            When he was still small after his parents died, Naga never touched the ground. She stayed close, close, always on an arm, or around his neck nervously shifting and moving. A few times she turned into a cobra, trying to fight off his grandmother, spitting venom and raising herself, trying to be bigger, but it always ended the same way. He would huddle and cover her as tiny garter in his arms, protecting her from his grandmother’s daemon, a mongoose. It took a decade out of the sun for the scars to fade away.

            Only a year after he had run away with the circus that she left even an inch of space between them. She circled through breeds less frequently now. Naga settled when he was fifteen, and the ringmaster was hung and burnt in front of him. She slithered up and choked his neck as a brilliant coral snake. He murmured it was just them now, and before he turned his eyes away, he knew she would never change again.

            Decades later in a squat dim cell in the prison, Naga perked up again. When Tyas returned the second day carrying a load of molding sweaters Naga hissed delighted, bobbed and danced down onto the clothes. When Tyas smiled up at him, he remembered what it felt like when Etta had smiled down then up at him.  
            Fahd sauntered in a few weeks later, trying to be collected and calm while his daemon paced anxious around him. Naga hissed in his ear in a language no one else spoke, and he knew things were different. Even before the prison upended itself, Naga hissed that life had changed again.

           

 

           


End file.
